Editor's note: Stress has a direct impact on our productivity and performance at work. Worse yet, it can follow us home and affect our relationships with loved ones.
Some TTI SI employees have reflected back on when stress really impacted their day-to-day and have decided to share these stories as part of a series called "My Stress Confession."
Visit measureyourstress.com and #MyStressConfession
Throughout my childhood, teens and post-college years, I always considered myself to be a happy and content person.
I performed fairly decent in school, had no problem making friends, found the good in new situations (academically, athletically and socially), and always had visions of continually growing as a person. All of this still rings true today, too.
A few months after graduating college, I found a great job in community journalism and worked hard to develop my skills as a reporter and writer. Forging relationships with colleagues and community members was something I really enjoyed and still hold in high regard to this day.
I was even getting a paid a decent enough sum, and after a year living at home with my folks, I moved out and was one of the first of my friends to buy a place of my own.
I felt fulfilled, happy and more of an adult than ever before.
I was content.
It’s funny how quickly those feelings can change, though.
While the majority of me felt content with the work I was doing, in summer 2008, I felt a growing sense of being trapped in a failing industry and wanting more — money, opportunities, satisfaction.
It was disheartening to realize a job and industry I had invested in during college and several years professionally wasn't rewarding me in a manner I saw fit.
Even the social aspect of my life — really, my lifeblood for as long as I remember — was suffering. I began to look forward to the thought of hanging out with friends, rather than actually enjoy myself when we were together.
It left me wanting more and didn’t meet the expectation I had built up in my head.
Not only that, but the stress of finishing assignments on time for work also weighed on my mind. After getting home from work, I would feel anxious for the next day. This would sometimes carry over to bedtime, when I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep and would feel wide-awake.
There were even times I would turn on the TV and, because of the late-night hour, see incredibly pathetic infomercials, but some of which described my feelings of stress and depression. Sad, for sure.
As someone who has always been pretty in touch with their feelings, I knew I was battling a form of depression and anxiety, something that plagued members of my dad’s side of the family.
I knew I needed help, particularly as someone in their mid-twenties who went out on weekends with friends and overindulged a bit too much.
I recall in September 2008 visiting my doctor for a routine checkup, as well as to discuss my troubles with anxiety and depression. But when she came in the door and said, “What’s been bothering you lately,” I immediately broke down. She and I both knew something needed to be done.
I eventually saw a counselor to better deal with these festering issues.
It took verbalizing my troubles for me to deal with these issues head-on, but it made all the difference knowing my family and friends cared. I don’t why we as people wait so long to reach out and say we need help.
Today, stress and anxiety are still a part of my life, but talking out issues with family, staying active at the gym, and making active plans with friends keeps me uplifted.
I definitely have a better handle on my stressors.
And, at the end of the day, I feel good about myself and don’t feel the need to recoil into darkness.